Stag Party
by magandakoi
Summary: Hermione started doing burlesque and pole dancing on the weekends in the muggle world where no one knows her. Recently, however, muggle stag parties have come to be quite in fashion for wizards and Draco's attending his first one at Hermione's club. Not a one-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Stag Party-Dramonine  
>Hermione does burlesque dancing on the weekends in the muggle world and muggle stag parties have come to be quite in fashion for wizards.<p>

A/N: I don't own anything in the HP Universe.

Four years ago, Hermione was chasing around rumors of horcruxes and fighting for her life. Three years ago she was finishing her last, albeit unnecessary seventh year of Hogwarts. Two years ago, she ended the brief, strained, and awkward relationship with one of her best friends. Between his auror training and her seventh year, Ron and Hermione had been unable to pull it together and they fizzled away from each other. The parting was amiable enough for the hot tempered pair—aside for choice words Hermione took to heart.

Prude. Prime, proper, pretentious—all P-words she was well familiar with—but prude? Surely it was said behind her back; it seemed to fit well with her studious nature. She was however, not a prude…she was just disenchanted with the poor chemistry Ron and her had shared. She had initially attributed the awkwardness to the stages of getting to know each other's preferences but they did not get better—it almost seemed like they got worse.

Ron was never very interested in her satisfaction and that annoyed Hermione. It made her feel distinctly unsexy and in fact, a little prudish. If he wasn't invested in her enjoyment, why should she be invested in his? As was their pattern, their stubborn and obstinate (and admittedly childish) behavior led them astray. So they ended the relationship with muted bitterness.

Two years ago, Hermione and her lackluster sexual experience made her feel distinctly unsexy and played on her insecurities of attractiveness. Conveniently, Viktor Krum was playing in England shortly after Hermione's breakup and it was the first time she had seen him since the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Older and no longer a virgin, there was a much greater attraction than there had been at the Yule ball.

Perhaps it was the voice in the back of her head calling her a prude—the same one that criticized her for studying and behaving too much—that caused Hermione to throw caution to the wind and tumble in the seeker's bed. It was empowering.

Between her job at the ministry and the lack of mental attraction to Krum, Hermione met up with him only for the dalliances of the body. It was a strange balance of friendship and lover but not beloved. He was a good lover—interested in her pleasure—and she took from him as much as she gave back. He taught her sex could be great and she would never forget that. But he was no life partner and she tired of their string of casual sex after three months. They ended it amiably.

No longer seeing Krum and relieving her sexual tension, Hermione yearned for an expression of her new found sexual freedom. She was neither a prude nor a slut. But screaming "I just had sex" at the Ministry seemed entirely inappropriate—she had an image to maintain. Yet that image went out the window when she first walked into the dimly lit dance room with wall length mirrors.

Hermione often dwelled in the Muggle world when she wasn't working or visiting friends. Her apartment was in Muggle London and besides a few specific spells to protect the place (and a few to hide some of her prized possessions), it was more Muggle than Witch. She had reconnected with a few Muggle friends who had introduced her to the workshop.

Burlesque dancing. Erotic dancing. Pole spinning. She loved it all; it was her way of expressing her sensuality. She could be alluring, she could be attractive, she could be enchanting—all in the Muggle world where no one would recognize her as the one of the golden trio. There was also a certain pride at the physical nature of dancing. Hermione was never an athlete but she did enjoy the way her body became lean and toned as she trained and practiced. No one at worked had noticed; the changes were hidden behind her robes and work clothes. Her friends had noticed but she had played it off as a decision to work out at a Muggle gym. Harry understood the concept but Ginny and Ron had scoffed at the idea—it was something wizards simply did not do.

Like everything Hermione liked or made up her mind to learn, she was a quick study. With her new found obsession, she practiced every day after work. Eventually, she was ready to perform. It was just a performance that the class hosted for other students to see. She was initially nervous about performing—it wasn't reciting books or spells—it was so very personal. Fear swallowed in true Gryffindor style she performed…and she loved it. Half a year, several performances later and Hermione was still in love with the hobby. Her love life was still quiet but her work life was just taking off.

Hermione worked tirelessly throughout the day. She had tendencies to skip lunch (so Ron or Harry had taken to eating lunch with her). She created a series of legislations that were used to process, try, and rehabilitate Death Eaters and their supporters. Hermione did a variety of the initial research before Kingsley introduced her new colleague to help with the Pure Blood side of both politics and creating legislation that worked. Her new colleague was Blaise Zabini.

After their initial disagreements and a series of overtimes and fights (when she found that spinning pole and dancing had become ESPECIALLY important in relaxing her stressed nerves) they passed their legislation and began their rehabilitation. With their first successful collaboration they became actual friends. They even ventured out to Muggle London for lunch on occasion-which was how Blaise met one of Hermione's friends.

Claire was tall and beautiful with tan skin and black hair. She had beautiful blue eyes and a wonderful smile. She was also a waitress at the café they days she wasn't attending university. Blaise fell immediately in love. Hermione learned that Zabini men were exceptionally passionate and Slytherins were capable of great love (although Hermione had already come to learn that from Snape). Blaise and Claire were engaged within the year.

All of this led to Hermione's current dilemma. Since the passing of the various measures Blaise and Hermione had pushed to enact, plus the publicity and marketing—and honestly, propaganda—various Muggle things were bleeding over into the Wizarding world. The most recent craze was the introduction of Stag Parties.

Wizards often had something akin to Stag Parties for the bachelor and his mates before the wedding—but it was usually a little more…gentlemanly than the Muggle version. Now wizards would dress up (much more inconspicuous since Hermione's update of Muggle information on culture, thank you very much) and they would go to strip clubs and Muggle bars—and _burlesque clubs_ for the especially wealthy. Which was why Hermione was staring at the group with abject horror.

In the fairly classy Burlesque club,_Le Chat Noir_, Blaise Zabini and his stag party were sitting front and center in the VIP section waiting for the show to begin. Hermione Granger was standing behind the curtains waiting for the show to begin as well—so she could perform.

Three months ago she had been inspired to try out for a dancer's position on the weekends at the club. She loved performing and the Burlesque club did not show anyone completely naked (although some of the other girls wore less than others). It had added a sense of danger and excitement that Hermione had lacked in her life. _But this was too dangerous_. On the right side of Blaise was Draco Malfoy of all people! Various other wizards she recognized and what looked to be Claire's brother were also in attendance.

Blaise was most likely to recognize her—they did spend a lot of time together. Hermione had never met Claire's brother in person and Draco…well…Hermione blushed as the adrenaline sprung up in her veins. This excitement! Getting away with being overtly sexual and sensuous before Draco Malfoy, of all people, was a new kind of thrill.

Draco had interrupted Blaise and Hermione several times to pull Blaise away for lunch or a pint—it was amazing that Harry or Ron had never happened upon them at the same time. While Draco did not stay long to chat, he was always strangely reticent since his court mandated rehabilitation and Hermione was curious to see how he had adjusted. Apparently he was doing quite well to be attending a performance at a muggle establishment.

With another look at the blond who sipped at his drink languidly, Hermione's mind was made up. The club _was_ relying on her, after all, and she had developed a certain spell she had wanted to try. Hermione subtlety pulled out her wand from her bag in the dressing room. A quick wave and mutter and she cast her spell—a variant of the notice-me-not and confundus spell. She called it the "Je ne sais quoi" spell and activated when someone recognized her as Hermione Granger. Instead of making the actual connection, however, it just left the person feeling that there was something about that person that they couldn't put their finger on—a certain je ne sais quoi about them. Hermione theorized that it could be overpowered by willpower if you knew what to look for but Hermione had a feeling no one would look at her and see Hermione Granger.

Hermione took one peek at the mirror before rushing to her spot behind the curtains. Hermione had long black hair with bangs and dark eye shadow that was smudged and thick and made her feel dangerous. They'd never recognize her under the make-up and without her curls.

The music began and Hermione closed her eyes, exhaling. This was her stage. Here, she was no longer Hermione Granger—ministry worker, golden girl, prude. Here, she was Rose Noir and nobody had any clue what she could do.

* * *

><p>Draco pouted at the table as he sipped slowly on his muggle drink. It seemed dull compared to fire whiskey, but Draco had not come to get pissed drunk anyway. He wasn't there because he wanted to be either. He scowled at Blaise who was chatting with his future brother-in-law, the muggle.<p>

Blaise had always been on the cusp of the dark lord's movements and his family was not of English lineage. While Voldemort had sought pure bloods of every type, he preferred the traditional nobility and Blaise had been spared the inner circle. Being removed let Kingsley offer Blaise a position as a pseudo-diplomat/point of contact for the transitioning pure bloods and Voldemort sympathizers. Blaise accepted readily—even though it meant working with Granger.

Draco had laughed for ages the first time Blaise floo'd to his apartment to lament his fate—they had had their first major disagreement with the legislation they had passed and it apparently had become quite the verbal disagreement. Eventually however, Blaise's comments about Granger become less heated and more, dare he say, friendly. When they had finished the D.E.R.P. (Death Eater Rehabilitation and Persecution) bill and it passed successful, Granger and Blaise had officially become friends.

Draco saw her occasionally. He had various "meetings" with Blaise for his own rehabilitation, but they were really just lunches to make sure Draco was doing well. Draco's mother had received leniency from Potter's rousing speech and shortly after Granger vouched for his mother and Draco himself. She argued that they were under threat and yet the still attempted to deflect the inquiries of their identity. No one dared to contradict the two and the Malfoys entered their rehabilitation stage.

Draco never forgot the service Granger gave to his family—a family that had tortured and nearly killed her where they used to dine for supper. She may have been able to move on but Draco still saw her convulsing in his dreams. When he started meeting Blaise at his office, he always looked at Hermione, yearning to apologize and thank her—but all he could manage was a nod of acknowledgement.

Then Blaise and Granger's friendship allowed Blaise to meet his finance, Claire and the rest was history. Now they were in muggle London, waiting for some trollops to cause question to Blaise's fidelity. Draco stared irritated at Blaise. Blaise finally noticed and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes, Draco?" Blaise smirked. Draco scowled.

"I could've been drinking fire whiskey in the parlor instead of hogwash in a whore house." Draco said icily.

"Come now, Draco. This is a fine mu-modern tradition." Blaise said as he caught himself in the sentence. Draco opened his mouth to retort when the lights flickered above him. They began to circle around before unifying their beams to focus on the stage.

" Welcome, fine patrons for a night of delights—featuring the kittens of _Le Chat Noir._" A voice announced before music began and the curtains slowly opened. Draco stared dispassionately at the stage as several girls emerged, hips bouncing on rhythm. Their backs were facing the crowd as they took a few steps forward, still bouncing, in short skirts and small tops. They spun suddenly to face the crowd. Draco's eyes dragged lazily amongst the faces as the girls.

-_Boy, I will be your sexy silk.  
>Wrap me around 'round, 'round.<em>

Draco's eyes rose in surprise as the girls gyrated their hips in a circular motion. Witches _certainly _did not dance like that—at least the ones he knew.

-_I'll be your pussy cat drinking your milk right  
>down, down, down<em>

The girls moved lower until they were on their knees and Draco watched, mouth parting slightly, as they rolled their bodies from the floor. The side view of the girls emphasized the roll and the slim figures of the females before him.

-_A kiss could last all night,  
>You'll have to seduce me, nibble and bite. <em>

They were crawling. Merlin, they were crawling and hips were thrusting, and hair was flipping, and Draco had never seen anything like those movements in his life. Then he spotted her and he was enchanted. She had pale skin, kohl around her eyes, and long black hair. He watched in slow motion as she tossed it, rolling her hips as she slowly moved her gaze towards him. Merlin, she was so familiar and so incredibly seductive—he was enchanted.

Draco wasn't sure what drew his eyes to her but the world had faded away as he watched her dance. He tried to figure out who it was the woman reminded him of and why she was so appealing. Their eyes met and Draco felt his mouth go dry—the look in her eyes was powerful, confident, and heady. Draco was so enthralled that he didn't notice the song had ended until she turned away. He could see her heaving chest as she smiled at the crowd. Draco joined the applause, dumbstruck, until she left the stage.

"Far classier than a whore house, eh?" The dark haired man beside Blaise commented with a smirk.

"Claire is still better than any of these ladies, Darren." Blaise commented, nowhere near as affected by the new experience as Draco. The Darren bloke noticed.

"Your friend seems to like it here." Draco snapped out of his stupor, locking eyes as an arrogant smirk appeared on his face as an instinctive defense.

"Classy is not how I'd describe it." Draco said condescendingly. Darren shrugged.

"Nothing wrong with watching pretty birds do some pretty moves. Just remember that you can tip the girls but you don't tip them publically—you have to go through the host."Darren turned away to talk to another stag party attendee and Draco turned to Blaise.

"There is something about the black haired girl—I don't know what." Draco admitted. Blaise looked amused.

"She's attractive and dances erotically?" Blaise ventured.

"Something else…I feel like I recognize her…" Blaise nearly snorted.

"You hardly ever venture out to the muggle world, Draco. I doubt that you happened to find the one who would be a dancer here tonight." Blaise said skeptically. They were interrupted by a waitress bringing out another muggle drink. Darren came over and instigated a round of shots that Draco also threw back. Several dancers returned to the stage in group or single dances but he had not seen the black haired girl again.

* * *

><p>Behind the curtain, Hermione giggled to herself. It had been difficult at first to see Draco but now she would never forget how he looked when he watched her. Ignoring the heated flush she felt inside, she remembered his slack jaw and wide eyes—he hadn't even guessed it was her!<p>

Hermione watched from the side of the stage as the stag party watched some of the other dancers. Draco no longer seemed as flabbergasted at the dancing, although he raised an eyebrow in disdain at some of the more scantily clad ladies and their tassels. She laughed when she looked at Blaise; he was completely unaffected and she smiled knowing that Claire would be getting a very dedicated man.

Hermione went back into the dressing room when the boys were taking another round of shots. Hermione wondered if the wizards would realize how potent muggle alcohol could be. Inside the dressing room Hermione put on her outfit as the speaker announced intermission; they needed it to put up the pole for her routine. Hair fixed, make up fixed, and a calming breath, then Hermione was out the door.

* * *

><p>How many shots had Draco had? He couldn't remember. Darren had been pouring them down Blaise's throat but the only indicator that Blaise was affected was the slight glaze in his eyes that Draco recognized as being wasted. Darren looked disappointed. Draco was much more affected than he thought he would be. Fire whiskey burned and heated the body in a way this alcohol did not; it was difficult for him to realize how much he had consumed without that particular burn. While he was confident that he could stand without falling, Draco was sure that world was slightly swaying.<p>

The music was beginning again and the lights were not as harsh as they had been before. In the dimmer light Draco noticed a pole in the middle of the stage for seemingly no reason. The curtains were opening only enough to form an arch way and Draco's breath caught as he noticed her through his blurry haze.

"Blaise." Draco said, cursing mentally as it came out slow, belaying his intoxication. Blaise turned his way none the less. "Her." He whispered and Blaise turned towards the stage where the woman was sauntering and approaching the pole. The song was slow and the black haired dancer grasped the pole.

-_I left my girl back home,  
>I don't love her no more.<em>

She was scantily clad—what looked like knickers and a bra. She was swirling her hips as she grasped the pole, moving down and arching her back as she pulled herself up. Draco felt his pants tighten around him and his blood pulse in his veins.

-_Bring your love baby,  
>I can bring my shame.<em>

Then she had lifted herself off the floor, clasping the pole as she flowed around the bar. Draco was unsure how it had happened, how she had transitioned, but she was inverted and then she was stretching—arms and back arched as her legs kept her fastened to the pole. Draco wondered if she was secretly a witch.

-_Listen Ma, I'll give you all I got.  
>Give me all of this, I need confidence in myself.<em>

Merlin. Draco wasn't sure how she was spinning so fast as she flowed from one position to the next, but suddenly she was twirling slower, legs and arms stretched so she looked like she was reaching for him. She was parallel to the floor and Draco could see the strength of her body as they held her tightly to the bar by only the crook of her arm and knee. He wondered if any of the others were so affected by her routine but he dared not even glance away.

She was on the floor, arching her back like she was in the throes of passion. Her legs were straight and pointed as she moved, reaching up to grasp the pole. Suddenly, she was pulling herself up and she was moving so fluidly and Draco could only marvel. She would climb, spin, and at one point she held on by only her arms as her legs split in the air. Then she was on the ground—hips moving, back arching, hair flipping.

-_Just tell me you love me._

Draco once again required the applause to break his concentration. He turned to Blaise who looked less impassive than he had all night.

"She does seem familiar." Blaise reaffirmed. Darren looked over at their conversation.

"Find a bird you like, brother?" Darren teased and Draco found it far more welcoming than most pure bloods were accustomed to. Blaise seemed at ease at the informal conversation and responded normally.

"The girl that just danced seemed familiar." Blaise said. Darren looked surprised.

"Really? She's a favorite here. She's great on the bar. In fact, if you know her I would definitely want an introduction." Blaise looked at Darren with exasperation.

"I don't know if I know her…she just has a certain something about her…" Blaise continued.

"A certain je ne sais quoi." Draco concluded. Darren shrugged.

"Well if you like her, you can always tip her. They bring out envelopes and you can even write a note on it." Darren suggested. Draco felt a little uneasy at the thought of tipping the dancer…it was something that they did not do much in the Wizarding world.

"I've never seen dancing like that." Another wizard next to Draco commented. He was one of the wizards Blaise had collaborated with for work and had once again developed a friendship. The comment, however, caused the other muggles to look suspiciously at the wizard.

"You've never seen pole dancing?" One asked skeptically.

"Some of us stay in classier establishments." Draco sneered.

"Says the guy who is slack-jawed and glazed eyed as he watches. You hiding a boner under the table, too?" The guy barked back and Draco snarled as he stood up, the chair screeching back. The other guy did the same causing Darren and Blaise attention to snap towards them.

"Oi, belt up you two. You're both plastered. Sit down and drink some water." Darren said authoritatively. Draco waited for the muggle to sit down before complying. He scoffed as he drank some water. Another woman took the stage to dance on the pole but Draco did not find her as compelling. He recognized some of the moves but he did not respond so enthusiastically to her performance. He did perk up when the black haired dancer emerged again; noting this time that she did, indeed, seem to have quite a following if the attentive audience was anything to go by. He felt strangely irritated by their leering, followed by a little embarrassed by his hypocrisy. The music began and he looked again at the stage, all prior thoughts ignored.

* * *

><p>"Good job, Rose!" One of the girls smiled at Hermione. Hermione smiled back.<p>

"You too, Na Na." Hermione whipped off her sweat. Reaching for the back of her head, she unhooked the black wig she was wearing, silently casting the counterspell for the sticking charm she used to keep it in place—it was weak enough she could do it wandless. She placed the wig on the mannequin head in and put it in her locker before going back to the mirror. She ran a hand through her pixie cut hair and cleaned up her makeup but did not take it off. Instead, she put on her leather jacket over her changed clothes and moved to the exit. She opened her door and turned into the hallway before stopping in surprise. Draco Malfoy was wandering around looking lost and fairly tipsy. Hermione bit back a laugh. Keeping her face straight, she addressed him.

"You're not supposed to be here, sir." She said in Rose's voice—an easy disguise that she maintained until she reached her apartment. Draco turned in surprise at the sultry voice. His mouth parted in surprise.

"I was, er, well, I was looking for the bathroom." Hermione couldn't help the laugh at something she couldn't ever imagine Draco Malfoy saying in such an honest and blunt way.

"I'll show you the way." Hermione offered with a smile. Draco nodded and they walked quietly down the halls.

"You're hair…was long." Draco mentioned and Hermione turned back in surprise, wincing.

"It's actually a wig. I keep it short." Hermione smiled apologetically before running her fingers through her short hair. Draco stared at her and Hermione wondered how long her spell lasted.

"You can see your face better this way." He commented and they continued walking to their destination. "You're very good at that dancing." Hermione was surprised when he continued speaking—he hadn't said anything directly to her since the war. They were never very nice things.

"I just started pole dancing, relatively speaking. I've actually only been doing it for a bit under two years." She admitted. They began walking up stairs and turned a wary eye at Draco to see if he would struggle up them. He managed.

"You must have practiced a lot, then." He said as Hermione pushed open a particular door. Into the main hallway.

"Thank you, I have practiced a lot." Hermione smiled. "The bathroom is right over there. Thank you for your patronage. I hope you come to watch us again." Hermione finished with the rhetoric they were encouraged to say when they met patrons. She made a turn to move away.

"My name is Draco Malfoy." Draco announced as he took out his hand for her. He spoke confidently and somewhat arrogantly and Hermione could see bit of his former self. She took his hand regardless.

"Rose Noir." She said with a small smile. They released hands and she turned to exit out the front door, nodding at the host and the doorman as she left. In the reflection of the glass, she noticed Draco was still watching her as she left.

* * *

><p>AN: So I saw some pretty awesome pole dancing videos and I thought it'd be interesting for Hermione to be able to express herself through a sensual style of dance. It's something that's so contrary to her nature, that nobody would ever expect it—the perfect disguise!

The songs I used were actually based off youtube videos featuring dancers. They're listed below:

Olya Swan and Co. Dancing to Sexy Silk by Jessie J.-  
>watch?v=a_k97Ovhktk&index=1&list=LLYRLiRlWzHgGQAL4JXLeg1g

Dirdy Birdy Spinning Pole to Wicked Games by The Weeknd  
>watch?v=a_k97Ovhktk&list=LLYRLiRlWzHgGQAL4JXLeg1g&index=1


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't own anything in the HP Universe.

Draco was hung over, simple as that. Any sound he heard reverberated in his head and magnified his headache. He groaned as he sat up in his bed. The world was a spinning and he felt like he had just apparated for the first time. His mouth tasted like arse. He rubbed his hand through his hair, disgruntled at the oily and dirty feel it left on his hands.

Last night after Draco left to piss, he had gotten lost. Then Rose had appeared and showed him to the was smaller than she looked on stage with short hair that left her face much more visible. There was something appealing about it and he struggled to figure out what it was as he watched her go. A fog descended in his mind and Draco struggled to remember. He—he tipped her! He tipped her a lot. Draco groaned again and mentally cursed himself. As soon as she had left he had gone over to the host, requested her envelop, and promptly left her a ridiculous tip. He was disgusted not only at the practice but at the feeling it left him with—like he had paid her to entertain him, like he was incapable of attracting her on his own.

Draco finally stood up and looked dismayed at his rumpled clothes, still on from last night. Stripping eagerly, he entered his shower where he began to wash the hang over away. It wasn't working.

Okay, so Draco had paid her a questionably large sum. Maybe it wasn't that ridiculous? I mean really, what did that amount to—a thousand pounds? That wasn't…no, that was definitely a sizable sum of muggle money—not that it affected his wallet. So he overpaid a—what did Darren call them?—stripper. Draco overpaid a stripper he would never see again. Blaise had said it was highly unlikely for Draco to run into that particular muggle on his rare sojourns into non-magical London.

Draco stepped out of the shower and put on his clothes. He was still too hung over to apparate safely, instead opting to head outside his apartment to the magical café nearby. It was a Sunday in January and fairly quiet at two in the afternoon. Draco winced; he hadn't realized it was so late. He entered and nodded at the waitress who walked him over to his small booth in a dark corner.

"Coffee." He nearly begged. He ordered some food along with it. The waitress brought the coffee back and Draco sipped gratefully.

"You look like shite." A voice called out at Draco winced as the sound bounced around in his skull, painfully. Draco looked up from his coffee. It was Blaise.

"You look like…" Draco began but frowned when he noticed Blaise's near impeccable appearance. Blaise laughed when Draco trailed off. Draco glared. What an arsehole. "Why don't you look nearly as bad as I feel?" Draco finished. Blaise smirked as he sat across from Draco. The waitress returned with his food and Blaise asked for an expresso.

"It wasn't my first time experiencing muggle alcohol. You think it's not as strong without the fire whiskey burn—but it's fairly potent." Draco gave a scathing look to Blaise as he began eating his food.

"You didn't see fit to warn me?" Draco asked with a baleful glance. Blaise's smirk only seemed to grow.

"The best teacher is experience and all that." Blaise said with faux nonchalance. "In all seriousness, drink water and a pepper-up potion and you'll be fine." Blaise passed the vial over to him and Draco threw it back gratefully following with the glass of water nearby. "It was actually a fairly good stag party. Most of the other wizards were plastered and the muggles were absolutely out of control. That second bar is what did most of you in." Draco closed his eyes as the pepper-up began to work, relieving him slightly of his fatigue.

"Yea, I remember the second bar." Draco opened his eyes and looked critically at Blaise. "I tipped her-that dancer." He admitted.

Blaise looked surprised. "How much?" He asked. Draco sighed deeply.

"Nearly 200 Galleons, I think." Blaise's eyes widened.

Blaise whistled slowly. "That's a thousand pounds. Good payday for that muggle."

"I wasn't expecting to-not that I'm wanting for money. It's just not a wizard world thing." Draco commented. Blaise nodded in agreement.

"Darren did say she was popular. Maybe the tip wasn't as outrageous as you'd think." Draco looked skeptical. "In any case, you won't be seeing her again." Draco finished his meal and waited for the waitress to return. Something popped into Draco's mind.

"Blaise, how did you know I was here?" Draco asked, wondering why he didn't question the Italian's sudden appearance.

"Ah, you let me put a tracker on you to make sure you got home alright. It's still got a few hours on it and I happened to notice you were here." Draco nodded, vaguely recalling the agreement. "I wanted to remind you that you agreed to meet Claire tomorrow for dinner." That, Draco did not remember.

"When did I agree to that?" Draco asked, paying the waitress and standing up to leave.

"When you agreed to be best man. Darren covered the stag party—not that you would've known the muggle tendencies, but Claire still wants to meet you." Blaise paused and seemed to contemplate something. "Fair warning, Hermione Granger is the Maid of Honor. Claire knew we all went to school together so she invited her along tomorrow." Draco stood at the apparition point looking weary. He felt petulant. He had been seeing Granger for months and had never spoken a word to her. Now that he was meeting Blaise's muggle finacée, she would prattle on about muggle things he didn't understand and Granger would be there _judging_, no doubt. Briefly, he contemplated telling Blaise no. Unfortunately, he felt compelled to appease the man who had personally helped him with his "rehabilitation." Instead of sarcastic words, Draco nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He said, before finally feeling well enough to apparate home.

Hermione always planned for copious amounts of sleep the day after she performed. The night before—rather the morning—she got home at 2AM. Sometimes she'd get home even later. With that in mind, she always left the day after for sleeping in and being lazy. It was without saying, however, that she always made the effort to attend the Weasley weekly dinner on Sunday.

It was nearly two in the afternoon when she woke. She sipped her tea slowly as she perused wizard articles of interest. For example, the Bulgarian team was moving on to the quarter-finals against England. Apparently, the Bulgarians were also slotted to lose. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the prediction. She hoped the Bulgarians would win. She did have her own prediction, though. She was fairly certain she would be getting an owl sometime soon informing her about Krum's impending arrival.

Finally, on the back of the newspaper was the ad she had been looking for—her "Muggle Grams". After Hermione's horrified realization of how truly little wizards knew of Muggle Culture, she began to update the ministry and wizard public. Her latest step was the muggle gram tours for case study and observation. They started this Friday. She was planning to bring them around Muggle London to observe current clothing trends, interactions, and attractions. She hoped to one day have practice classes for Muggle-Wizard interactions. Admittedly, the public information Blaise and she had already promoted seemed to have been disseminated effectively if the wizards at _Le Chat Noir_ were anything to go by.

Hermione felt her wand vibrate beside her, indicating it was time to apparate over to the Weasley's. Grabbing her wand and the newspaper, she apparated just outside the Weasley's house. She winced at the glare of the sudden sunlight before she made it to the front door. Before she could even knock on the door, Mrs. Weasley was welcoming her with open arms and complimenting her about the appearance of the new ad. She was passed from Weasley to Weasley, until she was in the arms of her two boys. They made her feel like the rest of the world was completely blocked out. In fact, she could barely see the red-head woman rise from her seat and push her husband aside.

"Make way for the pregnant lady! No need to help me up! I'm just starting to swell to the size of a red-headed Umbridge!" Ginny grumbled, knocking the boys aside to embrace Hermione. Hermione laughed at her sass.

"Ginny, it's just the _baby_ that's getting so big!" Hermione marveled, withdrawing from the embrace to place a hand on the expectant mother's swollen belly.

"You say that every time you see me but I am definitely getting fatter!" Ginny scowled.

"You're absolutely beautiful." Harry said fondly, gathering both his wife and their unborn child into his grasp.

"All right you two; she's already up the duff!" Ron said scowling at the couple, though his scowls had become less heated from their Hogwarts years. Hermione felt warm laughter bubble inside her. She linked arms between them as they moved back to the dining room for supper.

At the dinner table, she was seated across from Ginny and next to Ron. Harry sat next to Ginny so he faced Ron. They chatted pleasantly enough until Ginny brought up one topic Hermione had wanted to avoid for a while.

"So the Bulgarians are coming to Britain." Ginny mentioned casually, but Hermione could see the sly look in her eye. Ron still stiffened at any reference to the Bulgarian seeker. It had been long enough ago, but Ron often became petulant when it came to Viktor. Hermione eyed him out of the corner of her eye warily before finishing chewing her Shepard's pie. Delicately, she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Why yes, Ginny, they are indeed playing in Britain." Hermione answered primly, glaring at the giggling girl.

"London, specifically—right?" Ginny continued. Ron was still tense in his seat.

"Yes, Ginny." Hermione said, grinding out her name in annoyance.

"Think you'll see him?" Ginny teased.

"Ginerva Weasley!" Hermione said blushing. "Honestly!"

"That's not an answer, Hermione!" Ginny continued.

"You're the one who will be interviewing him after the game!" Hermione smiled triumphantly when the line caught Harry's attention. Ginny tensed up and turned to look at her husband, wearily.

"I thought you said you were going to lay low with reporting once you were in your third trimester?" Harry asked. Ginny smiled sheepishly.

"Well, they asked me the other day…and I didn't get a chance to tell you…" Ginny and Harry began a mild argument. Hermione sighed in relief as the conversation was mercifully changed. She wasn't concerned about them; their arguments were usually just a precursor of sex.

Nearly indistinguishable from the bickering in the background was a small clearing of the throat beside her. Hermione turned to look at Ron in surprise. She had been hoping he would have let the Krum comment go. He looked awkwardly between Hermione's face and the food he had begun to spear with his fork.

"I saw Lavender Brown recently." He began quietly. Hermione was even more surprised—Lavender had left the magical world for a while after her near death experience at the Hogwarts battle. She was even more surprised when Ron continued. "We went on a date actually…I saw her in magical London—she'd been gone for a while—and I asked her if she wanted to grab a cuppa." He paused again and Hermione realized he wanted her approval. She peeked at Ginny who was still bickering playfully with Harry; Hermione knew she had mentioned Krum so Ron would probably feel less guilty about Lavender.

"I think that's excellent, Ron. How is she doing?" Hermione asked sincerely. She saw Ron visibly relax and a blush cross his cheeks.

"She looks great… she's gotten into the exercising thing that you do—she says it empowered her in a way that magic didn't." Hermione smiled beatifically. She had known that Ron and herwere not right for each other early on. Though they had broken up and she still resented that prude comment, she cared for him and wanted him to be happy and in love. The idea of so many people in love around her made her feel slightly lonely, but she suppressed that feeling.

"How has she been getting on in Non-Magical London?" Hermione asked. She would have to meet up with Lavender some time. She probably had incredible insight for Magicals adjusting to the Non-Magical World.

"She likes it. She was a little lost at first, but she made amazing Muggle friends. We actually have another date coming up. It's in Muggle London." Ron looked up at Hermione expectantly and Hermione laughed.

"Yes, Ronald." She answered his unspoken question, "I will give you a Non-Magical Person refresher." Ron smiled graciously and Hermione immediately launched into some of the lessons she had already designed for her Muggle grams—which she also encouraged him to attend. Surprisingly, he agreed.

Hermione arrived at work before Blaise, like usual. She waited anxiously for Blaise to show up to see if he would recognize her. She hoped she wouldn't give herself away by her facial expressions. When he arrived with an extra expresso for her but not an extra look, she realized she was safe. Work was surprisingly quiet for a Monday and she felt no guilt at all when they left early to meet Claire. Hermione went on without Blaise so Blaise could get Draco. Hermione hoped he didn't notice her sudden tension at the mention of Draco. Blaise didn't seem to notice and they parted ways.

The restaurant was a nice restaurant. Hermione would've felt out of place with her usual business wear, but she had purposefully worn a nice dress beneath traditional wizard robes that she had already removed when she entered the Non Magical World. The maître d' escorted her to where Claire was already waiting in a secluded corner with a nice view of Non Magical London outside. Claire smiled and stood when she saw Hermione.

"Hermione! I love your dress!" She called joyfully. Hermione smiled back.

"Thanks, Claire. You look gorgeous." Hermione responded warmly.

"Are you sure I look alright?" Claire asked hesitantly. "You know I've never met many of Blaise's friends and his family is so far away…Honestly, if you hadn't vouched for him when we first met, I think I would've been concerned I was the other woman!" Hermione laughed. Blaise's love was solely for Claire and Claire alone. Claire wrinkled her nose at Hermione's mirth. "Don't laugh!" She chastised. "This is seriously the first time I've met any of his friends! You know Darren met them before me?" Hermione did in fact know and tried to casually take a sip of her water as Claire smoothed imaginary wrinkles on her dress. "You've gone to school with Draco—do you think he'll like me? He won't be mean, will he?" Hermione put her water down and struggled to imagine what Draco would be like. As far as she knew, Draco had never interacted with a Muggle except perhaps at Le Chat Noir.

"He wasn't very kind to me in school, but he hasn't said anything rude to me since we graduated." Hermione answered diplomatically. "Honestly, though, Blaise would never allow any one of his friends to be rude to you—you know that, Claire" Hermione smiled ruefully. She was happy to watch the people around her fall in love and be happy, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't feeling left behind.

Claire appeared to take a calming breath. "I know. I really am nervous, though." She admitted. "I feel like I know more about Blaise than even Blaise knows himself…but I also feel like there are gaping holes in his life that I'm missing." She looked at Hermione cautiously. "I feel like that with you, as well—like why did your parents' leave for Australia without you? They were never the type to leave you alone like that…and for so many years." Hermione sighed. This conversation had come up several times in the past. Hermione would have to ask Blaise when he was finally going to reveal magic to Claire. Until then, Hermione also had to remain was spared her own reply when Claire's fiancé arrived with the best man.

"Claire." Blaise spoke reverently in his baritone voice. Hermione melted from the love she could feel from the couple as they embraced. Hermione stood as well and fought the blush as she looked at Draco. Draco nodded at her before turning to face Claire. Blaise stood back from the embrace to introduce the two. "This is Draco Malfoy, my best friend. Draco, this is my fiancée, Claire." Claire thrust out her hand and Hermione held her breath. Her caution was unwarranted as Draco shook the offered hand quickly.

"Nice to meet you. Blaise won't shut up about you." Draco said with a smirk. Claire smiled brightly. They moved to the table where they began looking at the menus. Claire didn't bother to open hers as she stared openly at Draco Malfoy with a smile.

"Blaise never tells me any embarrassing stories about his time at school. I was hoping I could get a best friend's recollection." Hermione nearly laughed at Claire's excitement; Claire had tried to pump Hermione for information but was sorely disappointed when she realized how little they interacted when they were at school.

Draco looked taken aback at the question. Suddenly, Hermione realized it would probably be difficult for him to make his stories non-magical appropriate. She looked at Blaise who seemed to catch on.

"Come now, Claire. There will be plenty of time later to harass him about me." Blaise chided. Claire pouted in response. But the waiter conveniently arrived. Blaise ordered for Claire and himself. Hermione was surprised when he also ordered for Draco. Hermione had ended up ordering something random.

"Well at least tell me what you do, then." Claire continued, looking at Draco when the waiter left. "You don't work with Blaise and Hermione, do you?" Hermione perked up at the question. She actually didn't know where he worked either. Draco looked a little uneasy but answered anyway.

"I'm a healer." He answered. Hermione was surprised.

"I didn't know you were a doctor." Hermione commented, slightly impressed. Draco looked surprised; it was the first time she had spoken directly to him.

"I started working there after…" He paused and cast a swift glance at Blaise. "…after volunteering there. I liked it enough that I began training immediately. I've been there for two years."

Hermione nodded fascinated. She didn't know volunteering at St. Mungo's had been part of his reform.

"Am I missing something?" Claire interrupted, picking up on the slight tension in the group.

"No," Draco interjected smoothly. "But I am remiss on exactly how you and Granger met." Draco bit back the taunt that coiled naturally in his throat—that he was surprised she had had any friends at all when she was younger. Claire seemed to brighten at the question, however.

"Her mother was my dentist and Hermione was in my elementary school. She was the smartest student in the entire region—won all the spelling bees and always had the highest grade on the tests. None of us were surprised she went to a private school for junior high." Hermione was blushing under the praise. "We had all the same classes until we graduated. Honestly though, we weren't that close until a few years ago when I waited on her at the restaurant. It was my first day and someone was being rather awful. Hermione overheard his comments and scolded the guy so fiercely he apologized! We've been friends ever since." Claire smiled at Hermione who smiled back. "Was she like that at high school too? " Claire asked. Draco snorted.

"Granger always fought for just and right." Draco couldn't take the sneer out of his voice, even as he recognized his feelings of jealousy. Granger seemed to deflate before him at the comment. He cursed himself mentally. He had spoken only a few sentences so far and he had already insulted her. Awkwardness descended that was again conveniently interrupted by the waiter with their food.

Draco watched over his soup as Blaise and his fiancée ate. They were seated next to each other and constantly touching. Occasionally, they gazed at each other's eyes with a passion that was palpable. Meanwhile, Hermione was tensely by his side. She ate primly and neatly. She had done that at Hogwarts, too. He had noticed it nearly immediately when he juxtaposed it with the sloppy eating style of the weasel who usually sat beside her. He hated himself a little for how quickly he spit out his insult. She probably hated him but then again she probably always had.

Hermione did not hate Draco, however. Despite his intention, the comment actually made her feel more comfortable—it was a Draco she could recognize. It was a relief to notice that this wizard in a non-magical world could be so cordial. But it unsettled her; he unsettled her. But nothing was more unsettling than watching the couple before her. She felt like she was interrupting a very intimate and very personal moment. She wondered if Draco felt the same way. In fact, it felt a little like the world's most awkward double date. Hermione finished chewing her food and set down her fork.

"So Claire," Hermione interrupted; she was unable to continue in the awkward silence that had descended. "There was another reason we're both here, right?" Claire seemed to snap back into reality as she turned to look at Draco and Hemrione.

"Oh, right!" Claire exclaimed. "Aside from meeting the best man, I wanted to talk a few wedding details with you!" Hermione smiled at Claire's eagerness. "Since I'm able to spend a little more on the wedding than I thought…" Claire turned to smile at Blaise before continuing. "…I'm planning on some more traditional elements I hadn't really considered before." She eyed Draco and Hermione. "I want to dance." Claire finished. She must have expected a reaction because she was staring at Draco and Hermione, expectantly.

"That sounds great, Claire" Hermione answered, unsure what Claire was expecting. Claire gathered as much and began to explain.

"We start dancing and then you and Draco would eventually join us on the dance floor, followed by the wedding party, etc." Hermione paused at this. Walking down the aisle was one thing….but dancing together…that would involve _touching._ She cast a look at Draco from the corner of her eye but he was unreadable. "I was hoping that the two of you would be able to join Blaise and me for dance lessons."

"Blaise can dance and so can we." Draco announced. Claire pouted.

"Blaise said that you had a few lessons before your Yule ball." She lamented.

"The first dance will be a Waltz. The dancing style we learned is not the version of the Waltz we will be using." Blaise spoke up. Hermione got the unspoken message; their dance lessons were dances from the old world—from the magical world—and would be out of place at a non-magical wedding.

"I'm sure I can fit it into my schedule," Hermione determined.

"I'll see what I can do." Draco announced, surprising Hermione that he would even attempt try to attend—or care enough about Claire to lie. As they finished dinner, Claire and Blaise talked about various wedding details. They were still some months away from the wedding date and were finalizing a few more things. Blaise paid and they made their way outside.

"Hermione, is there anything else we need for the hen party?" Claire asked. She had taken out a notepad and was crossing off various things on the list. It was a habit that Hermione had instilled in her when Claire first started attending uni.

"I think we're all set. I have the plane tickets and hotel reservations." Hermione smiled again and turned to Blaise. "Are you sure you're going to let me take your fiancée to _Sin City_?" She teased. Blaise huffed.

"I'd rather her stay in the country." Blaise admitted. Claire hushed him.

"It was your decision to stay in the area. I wanted to go somewhere warm and sunny. It's a graduation present to me!" Claire announced. "Hermione, I told you that Darren had already met Draco—it's because they had their Stag party this weekend! They went to a strip club!" Claire whispered conspiratorially. Blaise sighed deeply.

"It was a burlesque club—no touching, not even a lap dance." Blaise said dully. Meanwhile, Hermione was blushing deeply. She managed a glance out of the corner of her eye at Draco. He was blushing deeply and looking away.

"Right. Well, in any case, you chose London in the damp winter and I'm choosing Las Vegas in the warm summer." Claire said joyfully. "It will be perfect remedy after my finals." Hermione was still blushing when she heard Draco cough.

"Well, Claire, it was nice meeting you. I'm sure Blaise will send me the details." Draco said hurriedly. "I'm heading off for the night. See you, Blaise. Granger" He nodded in her direction. She nodded back, surprised to be included in his goodbye. He walked off onto the busy street of London, leaving Hermione with the strangest of feelings. Blaise called a cab for Claire and kissed her goodnight. Hermione hugged her before watching the cab take off. She waved it goodbye before abruptly turning to Blaise.

"You haven't told her yet." She stated. Blaise looked unapologetic but a little uneasy.

"It's not exactly light conversation, Hermione." Hermione sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Blaise, you are engaged. You need to tell her…the magic world will probably be her children's world and it is your world. She knows you are keeping something from her and she knows that I am too." Hermione glared at Blaise a little. "You need to tell her soon." Blaise raised his hands in surrender.

"I will tell her." Blaise promised. Hermione sighed.

"Well, we can talk about this tomorrow. I'm going to apparate home. I'll see you tomorrow." Hermione turned and left the way Draco had gone. As she approached a good destination to apparate she realized that she had forgotten to check if Draco recognized as Rose. Judging by the interaction however, Hermione thought it was safe to assume that he did not recognize her at all. Smiling slightly to herselfHermione apparated home.

A/N:

Thanks so much for the reviews, favs, and follows! It's always super exciting to see people's responses and comments.

In the next chapter, Draco cannot resist the urge to head back to Le Chat Noir and see Rose, much to Hermione's surprise.


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